A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  "Be damned now. Took you long enough."

  There it was again, Vesper's uncanny and sometimes vexing ability to see below the surface.

  "T.K. wants a big wedding. He wants to invite the entire Texas Panhandle, part of the Oklahoma Territory, and at least one friendly Kansan."

  Vesper fanned herself with her apron. "I love a weddin'. 'Specially big weddings. They's work though. Soon's we know how many's comin', we can git started." Vesper poured a cup of coffee for herself. "Now tell me about the bad happenin'," she said slyly.

  Elise told her about the hide hunters.

  <><><><><><><><><><><>

  T.K. pushed his hat to the back of his head and leaned an elbow on the bar. Abilene, Kansas. Tough est cattle town in the West. Maybe anywhere. Ranchers brought their beef there to ship north. The town had doubled in size in the last year. More beef, more cattlemen, more banks more tents, saloons, and brothels.

  He tossed a coin on the counter and ordered a whiskey.

  "Buy me a drink, cowboy?"

  He grinned at the not-so-young woman at his elbow and motioned to the bartender. "Sure. Why not?"

  "You from around here?"

  "No, and I don't plan to stay long."

  "Interested in a woman?" she asked slyly.

  "I've got a woman," he told her, amused at his feeling of satisfaction.

  "The handsome ones always do. If you change your mind, my name's Flora Kate. Friends call me Flo." Her heavily rouged lips split into a grin. "I'll be around."

  Disturbing thoughts flashed through his mind of Lee soliciting drinks, begging favors, swinging her hips. Despite the rumors, despite the fact she had come to his bed looking for Patrick, he couldn't envision her in a place like that one. Contrary to the old saying, all women were not alike in the dark. Night or day, he'd never met a woman who could create a tempest within him like Lee.

  He downed his drink. Even though he had some time to kill, there was no point hanging around the saloon. His plans didn't include getting drunk, gambling, or spending time with Flora Kate. He was ready to saunter back to the hotel when something caught his eye, a partially hidden profile, a furtive look, a hurried exit.

  Excitement, wild and furious, surged through him. He hurtled through the swinging doors and raced to the middle of the street. After throwing quick glances in both directions, he broke into a lope toward the shanties of a string town and the rows of tents beyond.

  As he pounded along, he kept a searching eye on the wretched shacks. He caught a brief flash and heard a door slam. He angled across, hesitated, then backed up to get a running start. When he burst through, he collided with Jake's slight frame and heard Patrick's grating laugh.

  "Damn, T.K. If you had knocked, we not only could've saved the door, but kept old Jake from possible injury."

  Relief rushed through him, a release so intense T.K. felt sick to his stomach. Patrick was alive. Then, anger tore at him. "Why are you hiding? I've been through hell. Jake said you were dead."

  "You mad because I'm not?"

  "Pat, you're my brother."

  "Then you ought to be glad I'm still alive."

  "You made Jake a liar and an accomplice."

  "Jake didn't mind. Did you, ferret? Besides, my brother had to mourn. Made it all convincing." Patrick laughed. "I hear you've been trying to get my body out of Mexico."

  T.K. swore, first under his breath, then in harsh, pain-filled words, at his brother and at Jake. Patrick's treachery tore at his gut. From far off, he became aware of the wind rattling the windows. "Were you ever close to getting hanged?"

  A hint of remorse appeared in Patrick's eyes. "Not hanged, brother. Shot. I couldn't convince a couple of hard-nosed gamblers it was an honest game."

  "Didn't you feel you owed me the truth, Pat?"

  "Hell, I was looking for a hiding place."

  "You could have come to the ranch."

  "The first place they'd look."

  T.K. tried to find his brother in the face of this stranger. What had happened to the other Patrick, the fun-loving, handsome young valiant?

  God in heaven, he and Patrick were rivals for the same woman. T.K. felt an emptiness seep through him.

  "You sent the message to bring Lee DuBois to the Lazy B. She's there now and so is your son. What are you going to do about them?"

  Busy with rolling a cigarette, Patrick glanced up, his eyes twinkling with shared humor. "The way Pa used to tell it, the Burkes take care of their own. That was as close as I could get."

  Uncertainty blocked his breathing, but he had to hear it from Patrick's own mouth. "How do you feel about Lee?"

  "Nice girl. Lots of fun."

  T.K. ground his teeth. "And the boy? How do you feel about him."

  "I'm not sure." Patrick grinned expansively. "I hear he looks like me."

  "He's a Burke."

  "Well, I'll be damned." Patrick reached over to slap him on the back. "I knew you'd take care of him, big brother. You're that much like the old man."

  "Was Lee in love with you?"

  "Hell of a question."

  "She had your baby. The child needs a name."

  Their old man had said often enough that Patrick balked at what was expected of him. Patrick leaned back, placed his heels on the table, and crossed his legs. He lifted his glass. "I'm not the marryin' kind. If that's what you're asking."

  "Then I'll marry her. She'll be my wife, and Toddie will be my son."

  Patrick glanced at Jake and laughed. "Told you the Burkes always took care of their own. When's the wedding, brother?"

  Warily, T.K. watched for any sign of emotion. He didn't know what he wanted from Patrick, but certainly not his lack of concern. "Soon as I can get back."

  "You asking for my blessing?"

  "If you want to give it." Nerves raw and on edge, T.K. got to his feet. He hedged from acknowledging that Patrick had probably gambled on his marrying Lee, had known he'd take care of the boy. "I'll be in town a few days. You can reach me at the Abilene Hotel. Or I'll come back here."

  "Might be best to wait for a later time, brother. By the way, how are things at the Lazy B?"

  "I'm bringing a herd into Abilene to ship north in a few weeks."

  "What size herd?"

  "Roughly twenty-five hundred."

  With a laugh, Patrick tossed off his drink. "Judging by the market, I'm not the only gambler in the family."

  "I'm taking a chance."

  "Are you still feeding that Comanche half-breed's lazy braves? Or do they steal the beef from under your nose?"

  "Grayhawk's an honorable man. When the buffalo are all gone, he'll steal. Or until MacKenzie catches him or kills him."

  Patrick rose and shoved his chair against the wall. "MacKenzie's the man for the job. That mangy bunch of Indians have given enough trouble."

  They had had this argument before. T.K. started for the door, then turned, reached for Patrick, and embraced him. "Glad to have you back," he said thickly. "Come on home when it suits you."

  Later in his room, T.K. leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the windowsill. It was good to know Patrick was alive. Relief and disgust raged in his breast. Relief that he would have Lee and Toddie. Disgust not only for Patrick, but for his own duplicity. At any time, he could have acknowledged that Lee had come to his bed and that Toddie might have been his son.

  Lee was the first woman he had ever wanted to grace the Lazy B, and for the first time in his adult life, he was afraid. He had fallen in love with a woman who had been in love with his brother and possibly still loved him. He was engaged to marry that woman despite her reputation.

  Wearily, he rose and used a jack to remove his boots.

  The next day T.K. completed his business at the Abilene Bank, contacted his buyer by telegraph, and made definite plans with the railroad. Guessing that Patrick would not come to his hotel room, T.K. resisted seeking him out. Back somewhere in his mind, he had always known Patrick was alive and laughing. Now he wonder
ed when he would show up at the Lazy B.

  At the general mercantile store, T.K. bought gifts for his bride. He ordered fine fabrics to be shipped by stage and wagon to Dusty Flats. He purchased a gold wedding band and had it sized to the string he carried in his pocket. He searched and found oils, brushes, and canvas. On impulse, he picked out a cradle and cursed himself for being a sentimental idiot.

  Three days later, he reached Tascosa. After spending the night, he led his buckskin out of the livery stable and hit the trail. Hours later, with a Comanche moon to guide him, T.K. stopped at the Lazy B pump and washed his face and hands. Pausing long enough to remove his spurs and drop them at the front door, he started up the stairs.

  A light shone dimly beneath Lee's door. After his meeting with Patrick, uppermost in his mind was the need to know what kind of welcome she would have for him. Would he startle her enough to reveal her true feelings?

  He knocked and called her name. When she opened the door, he did nothing but stare at her. Silhouetted against the light, she looked back, her eyes wide and questioning. She didn't speak, but pushed her hair back, unaware of how provocative the gesture appeared. His gaze raked her body, then stopped at her breasts. The rosy morsels crowning them were visible through her nightgown. A tiny pulse beat at the base of her throat.

  She appeared shy and apprehensive. "You're back."

  In his haste, T.K. hadn't thought of what he would do or say once he was inside her bedroom. He tried desperately to come up with a way to eliminate the distance between them. Honesty seemed the best policy. "I couldn't wait until morning to see you."

  She seemed to understand and nodded. "Now what do we do?"

  He could think of a lot of things: kissing her all over, loving her silly, ravishing her. He dropped the parcel containing the oils and canvas, threw his hat on a chair, and unbuttoned his collar. Did she really want to marry him? Or did she watch and wait for Patrick? He looked at her mouth, such a beautiful mouth. He smiled wryly. "I'd hoped you would want to see me."

  "I wanted to see you."

  He had to strain to hear her; then he saw her eyes and didn't remember lunging across the room. His arms closed around her and he kissed her, savagely, hungrily, his body rock hard against hers. She was so hot and soft. He breathed in the sweet scent of her.

  To stop her trembling, he caressed her shoulders and back. "I've missed you. Tell me you're glad I'm home."

  Pliant and fragrant, she leaned into him. She licked the corner of his mouth and smiled when he tried to capture her tongue. "T.K, maybe we should talk."

  "No," he said roughly, "not now. God, not now."

  Loosening the bows at her shoulders, he let her gown slide to the floor. In the flickering shadows, her body gleamed like porcelain, filling him with a wondrous excitement. "Beautiful," he said over and over, more to himself than to her.

  He was consumed by the touch of her. The smooth curve of her shoulder, the side of her breast, the roundness of her hips. Effortlessly, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he found the peaks of her breasts and let his tongue lave them taut.

  Against her naked flesh, he whispered how fragrant she smelled, how delicious she tasted, how his body was on fire for her. Breathing words he couldn't afterward remember, he went again and again to the wet, searing heat of her mouth. He probed the interior with his tongue and nibbled at her lips with his teeth. When she moaned, he curved a hand over each breast and buried his face in the valley between. Her whimpers brought a wild need to enter her, to possess her completely.

  "You're mine. Mine. Not Patrick's."

  Her eyes gradually lost their drugged passion and took on the look of a wounded deer. A small mournful sound escaped her lips. "Is he coming home?"

  If he had anticipated the question, perhaps he wouldn't have felt so bereft. Fury riddled him, and a profound jealousy tore at his heart. He rose to look down at her. "No, he isn't coming home. At least not now and not for you." Self-mockery curled his lips. He wanted to hurt her, to have her feel the same gut-wrenching agony he felt. "I'm the brother who rushed home to see you."

  She smothered a small cry. ''T.K., please, honestly, it isn't like that."

  "Honestly? Isn't like what?" He forced back angry, embittered words. "I can't hang around to find out. Three in a bed's too damned crowded." He picked up his hat. "I'll look in on Toddie. When you're ready, we'll talk about the wedding. But not tonight."

  She scrambled to her knees and pounded the pillow with both fists. Her hair streamed over her face. Snarling, she grabbed for the sheet, glaring defiantly as she flung it over her naked body. "Damn your no-good brother and damn you, T.K. Burke. Damn you to hell."

  Raw pain centered in his chest. Even as her words slammed into him, he wanted her, to have the sweet fire sweep through him when he held her, even knowing her heart belonged to his brother. "Believe me, Lee. I'm acquainted with the place."

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. "And damn Patrick to hell for being Toddie's father."

  He stared at her for a long time, then turned on his heel.

  From the sanctity of her room, Elise edged the curtain aside and watched the activity around the corral. Lazy B cowhands had arrived sometime during the early morning. Horses still in harness had drawn the chuck wagon into the space next to the bunkhouse and waited to be turned out to pasture.

  She had cried off and on during the night until she was empty of tears. She had thrown caution to the winds and placed herself into T.K.'s arms. Only the mention of Patrick's name had kept them apart. Another opportunity lost to tell him.

  Sighing, she let the curtain swing back, but then caught it and looked closer. Mac held Drummer's reins. Judging by T.K.'s posture, he was demanding an explanation. As much as she disliked facing him, she grabbed a head scarf and raced downstairs. She had to see for herself that Drum was all right, to welcome him home.

  "You found him. I've been so afraid." She patted the horse's side and kissed his sweaty neck. "Oh, Drummer, I worried about you." She ran her hands over him checking for injuries. After a few minutes, she became conscious of the unnatural quiet and looked around her. The men stared at her as if she had brought disgrace on herself, on the Lazy B, and more importantly, on them.

  T.K.'s voice broke through the silence. "Why was your horse in the canyon pasture, Lee? Nobody raised on a ranch would leave his horse."

  Elise didn't answer right away, trying to decipher the implications. He was so close she could feel his tension. "At Frenchman's Crossing, Drummer spooked and ran away," she said uneasily.

  "When?"

  "What difference does it make?"

  "What time of day?"

  "Before dark," she snapped and spun around to avoid meeting his eyes.

  "The Drum doesn't spook, Lee. When Mac found him, his saddle was still on and his mouth was cut, showing somebody had jerked his reins trying to stop him." Each word he spoke seemed to punctuate his growing anger. "What were you doing at Frenchman's Crossing?"

  Elise glanced at Slim. "I was on my way home."

  Her quick look was not lost on T.K. He turned to confront his ranch hand. "Know anything about this, Slim?"

  "Why no, T.K. I brought Miz Dewbose pretty close to headquarters."

  "Where did you leave her?"

  "Let's see now. Well, we seen these Injuns and we figured they wuz headin' for the buffers. And I said it might be a good idea for me to hightail it back to camp and tell the boys to keep a good lookout. We wuz close to the ranch house. Five, maybe six mile."

  "Actually, T.K., it was my idea. I thought Slim should go back to warn the men."

  "I'd be obliged, madam, if you'd remember that I give the orders on this ranch." He turned on Slim. "I told you to see her home. You can pick up your wages."

  She tried again. "T.K., please."

  "Go inside, Lee."

  Elise debated challenging him, but after meeting his flinty gaze, she clamped her teeth together and marched regally tow
ard the kitchen. T.K. Burke was a bully. And the men had eyed her with the same commiseration they'd give a horse thief. Fuming, she slammed the door and stalked into the parlor.

  She heard him come in behind her. He didn't speak, and to cover an awkward silence, she whirled to face him. "I'm not one of the hands to be ordered around. And I think you should take another look at firing Slim." He continued to look at her, and with each passing second, her nerves stretched tighter. "What do you want?"

  Tossing his hat to a chair, he leaned against the door and folded his arms. "Details, Lee, and I've taken care of the problem with Slim."

  "Two hide hunters were at the crossing." Remembering, she felt the tears start down her cheeks. "They jerked and pulled at Drum, but he got away."

  His voice was hard and rasping. "And you? What about you?"

  "I ran. I got away from them, too."

  He gave her an incredulous look. "You got away from two men?" He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "And then what?"

  "An Indian brought me home."

  With a couple of strides, he was close enough to touch her. He bent his head to search her face. "Dammit, Lee. Don't lie."

  "I'm not lying. The Indian couldn't speak English." She was sobbing now. "I spent the night in his tipi and nothing happened."

  "You spent the night with a Comanche and you expect me to believe that nothing happened?"

  She walked wearily to look out the window. He would always consider her a liar. "Go to hell, T.K."

  "Tell me, Lee. Why do I have such a hard time believing you?"

  "Because you don't want to, I suspect."

  His hands moved to grip her shoulders and turn her toward him. "And why would I not want to?"

  "I don't know," she whispered.

  He gave her a small shake. "You little fool." His callused hand caressed her neck, drawing her to him. His breath fanned warm against her face. "Sometimes you scare the hell out of me."

  She was unprepared for the passion that slammed between them, and to ward off any closer contact, she placed a hand on his chest. She could feel the fierce pumping of his heart. "Let me go, T.K."

  Slowly, like a man waking from a dream, he released her. "I ordered some things to be delivered to Bonnie's place in Dusty Flats. Should be there the first of next week. You'd better start thinking about your wedding dress."